


If You Stumble I Will Fall

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, F/M, Just a drabble, Smutty if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: Just a little angsty drabble about Agent Whiskey
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	If You Stumble I Will Fall

You open your eyes to ambient noise outside. Muffled chatter, the bark of a dog, car doors shutting, and the first thing you see is a black stetson and a coiled lasso, hanging off the end post of your bed.

_ Jack. _

You turn over and sure enough, there he is. Lying on his side, facing away from you, his tumble of short, thick chocolate hair ruffled from sleep and your greedy fingers, his breathing even.

As you run through jumbled thoughts of  _ oh, fuck, _ and  _ please don’t go, Jack, _ he turns over, blinking open those bottomless brown eyes.

“Mornin’.”

“Um, morning.” You turn and face him. He has a sleep crease in one cheek and God, it’s adorable.

“We need to talk.”

Not for you, his casual endearments, his  _ baby doll _ and  _ honeybun _ and  _ sugarcheeks. _ No. This thing between you  _ means _ something, so when he does drop an endearment on you, usually when he bottoms out inside you, it’s something whispered sweet and low like  _ mine. _

And yeah, you’re his, in some ways, you were even before you met him.

“Do we?” You scrunch your nose up.

You don’t want to put a name to this, to the way he’s between your legs every chance you both get, the way your bodies fit so perfectly, the way your name sounds in his Texan drawl.

You don’t want to put a name to the wrench you feel inside when he leaves, when you wake and his stetson isn’t on your bedpost.

“We do.” He cups your cheek in one gun-callused hand. “The things I’ve done…”

“I don’t care. I don’t care, Jack.” Maybe you will some day, but not now. You tug him close and roll him on to his back and mount him, hands spread wide on his chest, and lean down to capture his mouth with yours. “Just this, for now. Please?”

“Never could refuse you anything,” he grumbles in that voice that hits your heart, every time, and you make slow love to each other, before he has to leave again.

And you both know that he’ll be back, and that you’ll welcome him.

The talk will keep.


End file.
